Dead Scared (3 page)

I frowned in the darkness. “Why?”

“This only happened when we both grabbed the contract and it ripped.”

“When you grabbed it!” I corrected her.

“All right, whatever! Either way – it might be the rip that caused this.”

“So?”

“If we can fix the rip, maybe this will all reverse itself.”

I thought about this for a moment. “That will mean your dad will be back in here instead of us.”

“Not if you pull out of the contract. Get that bloke to cancel it.”

“Then my mum will be in here.”

Mel took a deep breath. “I know it's hard to accept, Toby – but your mum is dead. She had cancer for a long time, and now she's gone.”

“No, she isn't,” I spat. “We both saw her in the pub just before this happened.”

“But she wasn't supposed to be there! You brought her back by messing around with this stuff – and look where that has got us…”

“OK,” I said eventually. “So, what do we do?”

“I've already told you,” said Mel. “We fix the contract.”

“How?” I asked. “It may surprise you to hear this, but I left my roll of sticky tape and my stapler back in the pocket of my coat!”

“No need to be sarcastic!” said Mel. “Here… take this.” She forced a small object into the palm of my hand.

“What is it?”

“Chewing gum,” came the reply. “My last piece.”

“Where did you get it?”

“There's a pocket in my dress.”

“You've got a pocket in your dress and you don't keep your mobile phone in it?”

“Just shut up and chew, will you?!”

So I slid the piece of gum into my mouth and
started chewing.

“Do you have to do it so noisily?” Mel demanded. “It sounds like you're marching across a swamp.”

“Stop moaning!” I barked. “I'm doing the best I can, it's just that – GLARK!”

“What's wrong?”

“I almost swallowed it.”

“DON'T DO THAT! WE NEED IT!”

“I KNOW!”

I continued chewing for what seemed an age, but was probably only three or four minutes. The air was now incredibly stuffy and I was starting to feel drowsy. I didn't need my biology teacher to tell me that we were starting to feel the effects of carbon dioxide poisoning. If we stayed in this confined space for much longer, we'd both fall asleep and never wake up again.

“There!” I said, spitting the gum out into my hand. “Done.”

“OK,” said Mel. “Hand it over…”

I forced my hand down my side to hers and passed the lump of wet goo across.

“Yuck!” she moaned. “OK, I'm pressing it against the back of the contract and smoothing down the torn part so that the edges touch…”

The world shuddered again and we jumped as a neon-blue arc of lightning shot down from the sky and hit the black earth beside us with a deafening CRACK!

Mel and I slowly climbed to our feet and examined our surroundings. We were in some sort of desolate landscape in the midst of a storm. Ice-cold rain poured down over us, washing the dirt from the piles of bones and skulls that littered the ground at our feet. I stuffed the hastily repaired contract back into my pocket.

Then came the roar. Louder than the rain and sharper than the bolts of lightning that continued to pound the earth. We clamped our hands over our ears and watched in horror as what looked like a demon rose up from the soil, eyes blazing and gravestone-sized teeth gnashing together.

It stomped towards us, hooves smashing the discarded bones into a fine, white powder that clung to the creature's leathery, red skin.

The demon considered us for a moment, then smiled.

It was then that I recognised the beast. I'd seen that smile before – only on a more human face.

This was Nick.

“Let us go!” Mel demanded. “We're here by mistake!”

Nick threw his head back and laughed. It sounded like the ground itself tearing apart. “Mistake?” he bellowed. “MISTAKE?! I don't make mistakes!”

“Maybe not,” I said, trying to sound as brave as Mel had done. “But I did. I shouldn't have signed your stupid contract in the first place!”

Nick stooped to glare at me, fire dancing behind the dark pupils of his eyes. “And what do you expect me to do about that?” he thundered.

I shrugged. “Let us go?”

The demon rose up to its full height and laughed again. “You entertain me!” he roared. “Perhaps I shall keep you here to be my fool for all eternity!”

“Never!” I yelled.

Nick pointed a long-nailed finger in my direction. More blue lightning shot from the digit, hitting me in the chest and sending me flying back a few metres. Mel hurried over to check on me.

“Are you OK?” she asked, examining the scorch mark on my shirt.

“Never felt better,” I grunted as she helped me to my feet. “I'm pretty sure I've got him worried now.”

Taking a deep breath, I tried to summon up some courage – then I strode back over the carpet of human bones to face Nick again. “Very well!” I said. “I'll stay and entertain you – but I want you to let Mel go.”

“No!” Mel cried, stumbling across a pile of skulls to stand beside me. She took hold of my hand and squeezed it tightly. “If Toby stays, then I stay too!”

Nick laughed again. “Two fools!” he cried. “Even better!”

“That's not the deal!” I shouted. Another bolt of blue electricity sent me sprawling.

Mel was beside me again in seconds. This time the burn mark was on the skin of my chest. “What are you doing?” she hissed. “You're making him angry!”

“That's the plan!”

“What?!”

“Just trust me!”

I staggered to my feet. “Nice shot!” I cried, staggering back towards the demon. “You should have a go at Mad Cats – you'd get the high score in no time!” I pulled my dead mobile phone from my pocket and held it up to the monster.

“Mad Cats?” spat the demon. “What nonsense is this?”

“It's not nonsense at all!” I insisted. “Mad Cats is the best-selling game for mobile phones ever. You see, these naughty dogs steal the cats' fish…”

“Silence!” Nick aimed another finger of lightning pain in my direction but, this time, I made sure my mobile phone was in the way. The blast of electricity surged into the device, instantly turning the phone red hot. I felt it burning my skin, but refused to let go.

“Hide!” I shouted to Mel.

“What?”

“Find somewhere to hide!”

Mel ducked behind a large, blackened boulder and watched as Nick's powerful lightning poured into my phone.

I gritted my teeth against the pain in my hand.

“You have to be careful, though!” I yelled. “You see, my dad doesn't know much about technology. He accidentally bought me the phone that was all over the news at the time due to a battery problem. Charge them too much and people found that they might… just… go… bang!”

I felt the phone begin to vibrate crazily in my hand and hurled it at Nick's feet. The mobile exploded, blasting up a shower of broken bones and rocks. The monster fell, clawing at its eyes with twisted fingers and screaming in agony.

The explosion threw me backwards. I hit the ground hard and risked a glance at my damaged hand. It was bleeding badly – just what I needed.

I pulled the demon's contract from my pocket and grabbed a shard of broken bone from the ground. Dipping the point in the blood from my palm, I scratched out the names I'd written on the piece of paper and replaced them with others – just as Nick clambered back to his cloven feet
and stomped in my direction.

I stood and thrust the piece of paper out towards him. “You're too late!” I yelled.

Then the world shook one final time.

I've been in the coffin – alone – for almost nine years now. And I've been awake for all that time. Turns out the drowsiness I'd felt when I was in here with Mel wasn't a lack of oxygen – just tiredness after a long and particularly rubbish day. No, I'm awake down here, all right. Properly awake. I occasionally fall into a restless sleep, but the dreams of being back up there don't last very long, and I do my best to ignore them.

And all because I'd signed my name on the wrong dotted line as Nick had pounded across the blackened, bone-strewn earth towards me. I didn't mean to; I'd planned to put everything
back exactly the way it was before I'd had the fight with Uncle Gary – but I guess I panicked. I wrote the wrong name in the wrong place and accidentally condemned myself to – well, not death. This is much, much worse than death.

The good news is I'm able to move a bit more now that Mel's not crammed in here with me. Not that there's anything to do, of course.

I hear them come to visit from time to time – my mum and dad, my brother and sister, sometimes even Mel and Aunt Anna. Uncle Gary has yet to appear. At first, I screamed for help every time I realised someone was up there, leaving flowers – but no one ever seemed to hear me.

I'm glad – in a weird sort of way. I don't want to scare them – not after all they've been through (or, rather, think they've been through). To them, I've taken on my mum's story. I'm the one who suffered through the lengthy cancer treatment. I'm the one who lost my battle with the disease. They remember sitting around my hospital bed
as the monitor readings began to fall. They remember holding my hands as I took that final, gasping breath.

I hope Uncle Gary didn't upset my mum at the get-together after my funeral.

Now and again, I wonder if Mel ever remembers the truth – even for a second or two. If she does, she never lets on when she visits on my birthday (I'm nearly twenty-four now!). Shame, really, as I have a favour to ask her. Nothing much – I just want to ask if she can find a way to get me a mobile phone down here.

I could really go for a game of Mad Cats to pass the time.

THE END

Dead Scared ISBN 978-1-78464-198-6

Text © Tommy Donbavand 2014
Complete work © Badger Publishing Limited 2014

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in any form or by any means mechanical, electronic, recording or otherwise without the prior permission of the publisher.

The right of Tommy Donbavand to be identified as author of this Work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

Publisher: Susan Ross
Senior Editor: Danny Pearson
Publishing Assistant: Claire Morgan
Copyeditor: Cheryl Lanyon
Designer: Bigtop Design Ltd

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